


Scatter the Days

by GrizzlyConstellation



Series: The White Wings [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Booker is back, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs Therapy, Brotherly Affection, He never met Quynh, Hurt Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe Learns to Forgive Booker, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Needs a Hug, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27993111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrizzlyConstellation/pseuds/GrizzlyConstellation
Summary: After being forced to take separate missions, Nicky is captured, leaving Joe and the others to pick up the pieces. During their search, Joe is forced to face his feelings toward Booker's betrayal and learn to trust him again. When they do get Nicky back he'll need his whole family.You don't need to read the previous fic to enjoy this one!
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: The White Wings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018449
Comments: 33
Kudos: 194





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I started posting this a week later than I was planning, so I could get ahead on future chapters. I'll be posting once a week from now on. 
> 
> If you're here for smut it will be in the first and last chapter. Everything in the middle is angst and hurt/comfort. 
> 
> The whole thing is in Joe's POV, so you'll only get his perspective of the torture. The aftermath is pretty gruesome though.
> 
> Part one is really just smut. All you need to know plotwise is that Joe and Nicky brought Booker back early because they knew Andy missed him and they don't know how long she has left.

Andromache was the warrior. Even to the rest of the world that didn’t know who or what she was, she carried herself like she could kill everyone around her. In her shadow, Nicky and Joe sometimes went unnoticed, but when they did strike they did it together and then they were as godlike as the Sythian. 

The former priest's cold efficiency with a sword had taken both Andy and Quynh by surprise the first time they watched him fight. Quynh had eagerly trained him with a bow and knives until he was able to hit his mark every time. She remained the fastest of their family, but Nicky always had the cleanest kills. 

Down the centuries there have been a few disasters when Joe and Nicky were forced to take separate missions. In the 1880’s, Joe was buried in a mining collapse while Nicky was two towns over. Nicky was there digging a few hours later and he didn’t stop in the month it took to find Joe again. Nicky had spent four months lost in the heart of the Amazon after his boat sank. He eventually wandered back out, cursing every insect he’d come in contact with, and apologized to Joe for keeping him waiting. Joe hated being reminded what life without his heart would look like, but even buried under a ton of earth or floating down the serpentine river calling Nicky’s name, he never doubted they’d be reunited.

Joe trusted those instincts. Individually, they were still two of the most dangerous warriors that had ever roamed the earth. Joe knew first hand what lurked behind Nicky’s quiet, deliberate nature and he trusted him. He could usually separate from Nicky with a measure of grace. 

Today, he wasn't in the mood. 

“Come on, boss. Nicky and I can handle the meeting in Berlin. The three of you can handle the job in London.” Joe looks at Booker across the table. The sunset briefly glints off the gold ring on his hand scratching the stubble on his cheek, but his gaze stays focused on the amber contents of his glass. 

Nicky was quiet as usual while he listened to Andy argue with Joe, but Nile kept looking at him expectantly. Waiting for him to intervene. Joe felt him smile reassuringly at Nile out of the corner of his eye. 

“Nile needs the practice, Joe, and I can’t do this on my own. One of you needs to come and someone needs to stay here to help Booker track down the traffickers before that trail can go cold.”

“Boss, we are not splitting up right now. It’s too soon.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared Andy down. She sighed and looked at Nicky for help.

“Joe.” Nicky placed a hand on Joe’s thigh that was bouncing out a steady rhythm. He started talking in a mix of Genoese, Greek, and Arabic, that only Andy would be able to sift through. “It’s not even a week.”

“It’s not about the time. I don’t trust him.”

“He wasn’t trying to get us killed, Yusuf. He did not mean us harm.”

“All the same.” He can see the discomfort in Booker’s shoulders when he pushes himself to his feet. He whispers something to Nile and she nods. They both clear out, but Joe can see Nile looks just as guilty as Booker. 

Andy finishes her drink and stands, looking between them. “He fucked up. We all know it and the three of us agreed on his penance. You two are the ones that brought him back in.” Joe scowls at the empty chair across from him. Andy sighs and slides her chair back under the table. “I know you didn't do it for him, Joe, but you need to figure this shit out. I’m taking Nile on some errands. Don’t kill each other.”

The door clicks shut. Nicky sighs and rubs his temple before looking sadly back at Joe. “My heart, if he’s ever going to heal… If our family is ever going to heal we need to extend a little trust. He is trying.”

“Nicolo, it’s too soon. I still can’t look at him without thinking of that place.” He can feel the pain of the betrayal deep in his chest. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I know. He’s family though. Soon all we’ll have is Nile and him.” He took Joe’s hand and held it tight. “Make your peace, Joe.”

“Forgiveness is your specialty, Nicky. It’s not easy for me.”

“Yet, you've always been more generous in your trust and quick to make friends. Sebastian has been your brother for centuries. Brothers fight. It doesn't mean you wouldn't still protect each other.” He tilted his head and looked thoughtfully at him. “Maybe time away from him is what you need.”

“What about what you need?”

“What I need is for you to stop acting like he’s our enemy.”

“Fuck off,” Joe couldn’t hide his smile when he looked up at Nicky illuminated in what was left of the sun.

Nicky smiled back at him knowing he’d won. “I’ll call Andy.”

Joe nodded and kissed his temple. He glanced at the door the others had gone through and sighed. “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

“Go easy on him.” Nicky looked like he was seconds away from laughing.

“I am just going to have a civil exchange between two old men.” He winked and slipped outside. 

The car was already gone. Booker stood alone at the edge of the garden, leaning against an old oak tree with a bottle in one hand and a rolled cigarette in the other. 

“You talk things out?” Booker had always been the first to adapt to changes in technology, but he had never been much of a fighter. He turned only for Joe’s fist to connect with his jaw. He didn’t recover in time for the kick into his stomach either. Joe squatted down and looked directly into his red face. 

“I do not care what your motivations were, Sebastian,” he emphasizes the name of his old life. Of his days as a boy. “It does not matter how much you were suffering. Nothing matters to me except that Nicky, my Nicky, got hurt. I had to watch him get cut open for your naivety.” 

“Listen, Joe, I didn’t mean…” he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. “I never meant… Especially Nico, Joe.” His wide eyes finally, finally met Joe’s. Two centuries ago Nicky had been the one to lead Booker, a half starved deserter in a tattered uniform, into their family. Those same, sad eyes stare up at Joe now, but this time Joe doesn’t smile or offer his hand.

Booker spat blood into the gravel and reached for his fallen cigarette that had started to smoke in the weeds. “Andy almost died. We would still be locked in that lab if Nile hadn’t surprised them. You want forgiveness? Fine.” He looked back up with a frown. “I’m sure you know Nicky already forgave you, but I need time.”

“He shouldn’t.” Booker shook his head and stared past Joe’s knee.

“You were desperate and you made a stupid mistake.” Joe softened his tone a little. “I am leaving you with my heart and my soul. We can both forgive you, but it’s going to take a few centuries for us to trust you like we did. I have already given you a second chance. Consider this your third. Don’t fuck this one up, petit frère.”

He picked up the fallen bottle, now mostly empty, and handed it back to Booker. There was a question in his eyes, but Joe was already straightening up and walking back to the house. Nicky was sitting at the table reading when he came back in. Without bothering to look up Nicky asked how badly he’d hurt Booker. 

“Nothing he didn’t have coming. Now," he grabbed Nicky's hand that had been toying with his hair and pulled him to his feet. "We aren’t going to talk about him anymore.” Nicky laughed when Joe easily threw him over his shoulders and carried him to their small room. 

"Was there something else you wanted to talk about?"

"Nicolo. If we should live another five thousand years my need to hear your voice will likely only be stronger. Tonight, however, I was hoping for a round of farewell sex." Joe kicked the door shut behind them. 

“I see. It is so rare that we get to indulge.” He laughed when Joe unceremoniously threw him on the bed with loud squeaks from the springs. 

“I wish we could skip straight to the reunion sex, but I suppose I can wait.”

“How noble of you.” Nicky sits up and starts helping Joe pull his shirt off.

“I thought so,” They started trading kisses between taking off articles of clothing.

That night he took his time opening Nicky up. He didn’t scold him for biting into his hand, fighting the urge to moan when Joe threw his legs over his shoulders and immediately set to work with his tongue. It had only been a few hours since he’d been inside him, but Nicky was already tight again. It didn’t matter how hard Joe fucked him, how loose he left him. Nicky was always tight. 

He carefully pulled out his fingers and laid down next to him. “Hop on,” he smiled and pulled on Nicky’s limbs until he started moving himself to sit on Joe’s stomach. 

“And why should I do all the work?” He reached back and stroked Joe for a moment as he rolled his hips back and let the head tease against his slick rim. 

“I’ve been thinking about Galicia,” he trailed a hand from the center of his chest down to his cock then back to his waist. “You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and you were finally mine.”

“You make it sound like that was the night we first touched.” He finally let Joe start to slide in, inch by inch. “We’d already given ourselves to each other. Many times.” Each word became slightly more breathless as he slowly rocked his hips back, taking a little more of Joe each time.

“You- ah- damn well know the difference.” He found himself having to bite his lip when Nicky took the last few inches. Nicky let his head drop forward against his flushed chest. Joe locked a hand onto his thigh and the other around his cock leaking against his stomach. “It was the first time you rode me like that beast of a horse you were on the first time I saw you.”

Nicky's laugh turned into a gasp when he rolled his hips into Joe’s hand. “I’m sure the horse had a name.”

“Forget the horse.” Joe sat up and began kissing across Nicky’s chest and shoulders before burying his face in his neck. They were both smiling as Nicky worked both of them to the edge with Joe’s hands locked on his hips. 

Nicky closed his eyes tight and started to lose his rhythm the closer he got. “Joe, I’m-” he gasped when he hit the right angle and started moving a little more frantically. Joe groaned and let him work himself on his cock before cumming between them with his face buried in Joe’s neck. 

With Nicky still clenching around him, Joe fell back and planted his feet on the bed and started thrusting up with his hands locked on Nicky’s hips, so every thrust hit deep. Nicky gasped and gripped the base of his cock that was still leaking the last of his cum. One hand gripped Joe’s wrist tight and he whimpered at the overstimulation. “Fuck, Nicky, so beautiful- Fuck-” he held Nicky’s hips tight against his and came with a groan. 

Nicky gave a small, satisfied laugh and dropped onto his chest in a boneless heap. Joe sighed happily and ran his hands over his husband’s flushed skin. 

“You know the night I’m talking about.”

“If I live until the end of time, I will still remember that night.” Nicky smiled, but didn’t bother to open his eyes.

“Made me feel infinite.” He rested his hand against his ribs that were still rising and falling faster than normal. “The trust you put in me and seeing you finally give all of yourself without shame or apology. Watching you bloom and come alive over me." 

“Always the poet.” The small laugh in his chest echoes through Joe’s body where they’re pressed together. 

It had taken decades for Nicky to really let go. Centuries before Nicky finally stopped feeling like he had something to apologize for. Even when they’d finally started opening up to each other he couldn’t let Yusuf touch him without agonizing over it for days. How he’d nearly destroyed himself with the guilt and shame he’d been raised in.

They all had things to overcome. Things they struggle with. For Nicolo di Genoa, it was guilt. Joe knew that. He knew and it was why he wanted to tear Booker to shreds for his words. Words that cut deeper than anyone except Joe could see. Andy had known them long enough, known Nicky long enough, that she knew how far they’d come, but Booker, and now Nile, had only seen the end result. Not the painful, centuries long journey they’d made.

“Maybe we can role play again?” Nicky’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Instead of us parting for sex. Remember Florence?”

Joe groaned at the memory and rolled them over to bury his face in Nicky’s neck where he started laying out kisses and soft bites. “Perhaps when we have a space to ourselves and more than an hour of privacy, but I don’t know how long that will be.”

“I do.” Nicky smiled at him. “I talked to Andy. After this one we’re going to take a break. Somewhere warm.”

“Malta?”

“Where else?”

Joe laughed and wrapped his arms tight around Nicky. “I love you.”

They were barely starting to put on clothes the next morning when Andy snuck into their room. 

“Just a week.” She said to both of them. “Nicky, in and out. Take the shot then leave it to the authorities. Keep an eye on him, too.”

“If you don’t trust him then why are we doing this?”

“I trust him not to hurt us,” Nicky looked between both of them with a sad smile. “Speaking of getting hurt. Andromache, I have gathered some essentials for you.” He reached for the small bag sitting on their things and handed it to Andy.

“Is this a fucking first aid kit?” She was looking at the red cross with deep mistrust.

“A fucking one? Nicky, didn’t I tell you we should add condoms?” Joe laughed and stopped tying up his boot, so he could get a look at Andy’s sour face. Nicky had shown Joe and Nile the whole kit, and he expected he’d taken the time to show Booker. He’d given each of them a basic rundown of first aid scenarios they might run into on the field. 

“I can add lube if that helps.” Nicky looked at Andy with a straight face, but Joe knew he was seconds away from laughter. 

“But if you want condoms, boss, I’m sure we can find some for you.”

“Fuck both of you. I know where all of your stashes are and I know the last condoms you bought expired a hundred years ago. Neither of you have learned any subtlety.” She snatched the bag from Nicky and weighed it between her hands. 

“We were curious how they’d feel.” Nicky grinned while Joe laughed from his spot on the bed. “It’s a mistake we won’t make again.”

“Never again.” Joe smiled and went back to his boots. 

“I don’t know how this stuff works anyway.”

“I’ve already shown the others the basics, but I can teach you. Whenever you’re ready.” Nicky smiled kindly. 

Andy went up on her toes and pulled Nicky into a hug. She switched over to Latin. “Thank you, little brother. I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

“I know you will.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest chapter in the whole fic, so expect the rest to be much longer. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Joe: *image*

Nicky: I don't understand what this is. 

Joe: It's a meme. Nile has been trying to explain them. 

Nicky: So this makes sense to you? 

Joe: No, but I don't want her to know how old we are. 

Nicky: She’s going to figure us out much faster than Booker did. 

Joe: Well he was a complete fool.

Joe: *is

Joe: How are things on your end? 

Joe: We’re all done, so I can come back if you need help.

Joe: Nicky? 

He watches the seconds tick by between messages. Nile is still talking in the front seat while she drives and Andy is busy looking out the window, but she knows him too well. “Joe, it’s barely been two days. We’re going to be at the next safehouse in an hour and Nicky and Book will be there tomorrow night.”

“You’re right. He’s just not responding and-”

“Joe, they’re on mission. He shouldn’t be texting you at all."

“It’s kind of cute though.” Andy glared at Nile who raised her eyebrows. “What? Two grown ass, immortal men texting like two middle school girls. It’s charming, Joe. Don’t let Andy tell you anything different.”

“Traitor.”

“Thanks, Nile.” He checked his phone again and felt himself relax. Nicky had finally responded and Joe decided to try having a conversation using just the emojis Nile had led them to. It made more sense than half the things Nile had shown them, and now seemed like the time to practice.

Nile started off on more questions about Florence in the Renaissance. When she’d learned that Nicky and Joe had been living there at the right time to meet some of the greats, she’d started interrogating them every chance she could. 

Yesterday, she’d accompanied him to a bookstore and told him about the art history classes she’d been taking at her university. They’d avoided talking about what life was like for Nicky and him as a couple living in Florence and focused instead on all the painters and sculptures they’d met. He’d even found a few books full of pictures of familiar paintings and laughed when she recognized Nicky in a few of them. 

There was a plastic bag next to Joe with the bookstore’s logo printed on it with a few new art books that Nile had bought for herself and a new one for Nicky. The last book he’d started was stashed in Joe’s bag with only a few hundred pages left. Nicky would get through it in a day or two and Joe remembered him mentioning this writer. 

Nicky had always struggled with speaking a new language, but he could learn to read and write seemingly overnight. Arabic hadn’t really clicked until Joe had brought him to the great libraries in Tripoli where they’d spent months practicing. Although Andy has always been the best with spoken language, Nicky had the easiest time with the written. 

Nicky abruptly switched over to gifs, which Nile had not shown Joe yet, and he wondered if Booker was helping. It left a bitter ache in his gut and he immediately felt guilty about it. 

Andy had told them that Copley had done most of the leg work. It was just down to Booker to figure out the location and time of the next shipment and for Nicky to shoot the head of the operation from a safe distance. It was the type of shot Nicky could take with his eyes closed, but Joe wouldn’t be there to spot him and make sure no one snuck up on him while he lined up. 

The next safehouse had barely come into sight, illuminated in the headlights, when he got a text from Nicky letting them know the mission was a success, even though Booker got blown up, and they’d be leaving as soon as he finished healing. Joe took his bag to the small private bedroom and whistled at the king sized bed. He carefully unpacked Nicky’s sword and set his new book under the one he was in the middle of on the bedside table closest to the door.

From the front room he could hear Andy swearing above Nile’s laughter. “Come on, Andy. You need to know how to facetime. It’s not that bad.”

“Why can’t I just call?”

“Because this is the future and we aren’t barbarians.” Nile raised her eyebrow expectantly. “Come on. Nicky and Joe have been picking up some of my tricks.”

“Fine, but if you show me any more cat videos I will break every piece of the internet in this safehouse.” Joe winked at Nile and started looking through the bare cupboards making a mental shopping list for dinner. Andy was grumbling while Nile watched over her shoulder with a huge smile on her face. The familiar ring echoed through the kitchen while Nile patted Andy on the back. “By the way, Nile, I was a barbarian for a few centuries.”

Nile looked back at Joe and rolled her eyes when Andy was distracted trying to flip the camera back around. “Hey, boss. Nile finally won you over, huh?” Booker’s raspy voice filtered into the room cutting off what was likely a few days worth of follow up questions from Nile on Andy’s history.

“Hey, Booker. Are you guys heading out soon?” Nile pressed her face next to Andy’s scowling one. 

“Please, say yes. Joe has been moping for three days now.”

“I have not been moping!” He stood so he’d be visible behind Andy’s head. “Don’t tell Nicky I was moping. I have managed it with dignity and grace.”

“So if we take a few more days it won’t be a problem?” Booker looked relaxed and Joe felt a familiar ease settle for a moment. “Hey Nicky, Joe said-” 

He stopped talking abruptly and tapped at the phone to flip the camera before hastily setting it down. Whatever it’s leaning against gives them a clear view of the front door. Nicky has pulled a gun and when Booker appears standing between the camera and the door he’s got his own out. Joe holds his breath when someone knocks. Nicky looks to Booker and nods before slowly opening the door. 

Joe doesn’t expect Nicky to lower his gun almost immediately. The woman is far enough away from the camera it’s hard to pick out her features, but Joe knows her. It just takes a minute. The last place he’d ever expect to see her. It is her though. 

Booker twitches like he wants to look back at the camera, but he just lowers his gun a fraction. 

“Quynh?” 

“Nicolo, I hope I’m not intruding.” She looks down at Booker. “This must be the French one then.”

“Quynh, how did you? When?” Nicky puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. When she doesn’t push him away he pulls her into a tight hug. Quynh stiffens, but quickly hugs him back as tightly as she can. 

“Booker, what’s going on?” Nile is the only one capable at speech right now, but Booker doesn’t respond. “Did he mute us?” 

“Five hundred years, Nicolo. I don’t think you can comprehend what that’s like.” She buries her face in Nicky’s chest. “What’s the longest you’ve been apart from your own soul? How long do you think it would be before he gave up looking for you?”

“Quynh, please…”

“That’s right. Yusuf wouldn’t give up. Ever. I know that. I used to think that. And what would you do if he’d left you in the sea to drown?” Joe can hear the shift in her voice. It drips the venom that always proceeded a righteous kill. It was the sound before Quynh struck down someone who she knew deserved their pain. Nicky visibly tenses.

“I’d forgive him.” Andy inhales sharply and reaches back to grab at Joe, but he can’t look away. The video lags for a few seconds, so time seems to shatter in tiny frozen moments. Quynh’s hand disappearing in a pocket. Her fist coming down on Nicky’s unguarded neck and stabbing him with a syringe. And finally Nicky, staggering back and dropping to his knees . 

“You haven’t changed have you?” 

“No!” Booker leaps toward Quynh, but she slips past his wild punch and sinks a knife into his stomach in a strike that’s too quick for the camera. “Quynh, don’t hurt him.” Booker’s speech is already a little slurred, but from this angle Joe can see his hand trying to pull the knife out.

Quyn looks down at him. “You had nothing to do with their betrayal. I have no quarrel with you, but if you get in my way I will hurt you in ways you can’t imagine. Be sure to extend that to the other one.” Half a dozen masked men enter the room. Two of them roughly jerk Nicky’s arms behind his back and secure bindings in place. Nicky is barely conscious, but blood is steadily pouring from his nose and mouth as he fights off whatever poison was in the needle. “I’m going to make them feel some of my pain.”

Nicky raises his head a little and looks around the bodies shifting around him like he’s lost something. The chasm opens between the miles and swallows Joe’s heart. He’s hours away. A gun went off and Booker dropped dead with half his skull decorating the floor. Joe doesn’t know when he took the phone from Andy or when he started screaming. 

“Nicky! Let him go! Quynh, it wasn’t his fault! Booker, GET UP!” He’s still screaming when Nicky’s face is covered with a hood and he’s dragged from the room. He screams while the men follow Quynh out and until Booker comes back with a gasp. 

Instinct kicks in and Booker immediately pulls the last few inches of the knife out, secures his gun and gets back to his feet, looking wildly around the room. “Fuck, fuck.” He grabs the phone and switches to a regular unmuted call. “How long was I out?”

“Thirty seconds. Book, you need to-”

“On it.” They are treated to the sound of Booker’s heavy breaths as he runs to the nearest exit. A door slams open and there’s the sound of gunshots, but it only comes from Booker’s gun. “Fuck!”

“Booker, where is he? Booker?” Andy pushes herself to her feet and starts pacing back and forth. 

“I’ll call you back, Joe.” There’s a sudden silence. 

“That motherfucking, piece of-” Joe swears and starts redialing again only to reach voicemail. And again. Again. “Come on, Book. Answer the-”

This time he answers. “If you hang up I swear I will-”

“Joe, he’s-”

“Put him on, Book. Now, put him-”

“He’s gone, Joe. She took him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone that has commented!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all Joe and Booker, but Nicky will be back soon. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The new moon fails to bring any light to the hotel room, only passing headlights and the weak yellow lamp illuminate the anemic walls. Andy had told him to get some rest, but in the last three hours he’d only managed to sit on the edge of the bed with his unopened journal. A piece of charcoal is slowly crumbling between his fingers, falling in ashes to the plain carpet between his feet.

Copley has managed to find a weak trail, but for two months they’ve always been one step behind. Now, summer is over and they are between leads.

Nicky would be mad at him. It’s the only reason he hadn’t argued with Andy when she pressed the room key to his chest. He had yet to follow through with Nile’s gentle reminder that he should shower and he hadn’t touched the room service that arrived on its own nearly an hour ago. Booker was supposed to take the other bed, but he was still with Copley somewhere going through security footage. The whole guard had barely slept since Nicky had gone missing. Copley and Booker had stopped taking breaks since Joe’s necklace had turned up in a filthy lab, the first tangible piece of Nicky they’d found.

The door started to open, but caught on the chain with a thud that must’ve been Booker hitting his head. “Merde.” 

Joe hesitated while he listened to Booker cursing. He walked past the tray of food and forced his stained fingers to raise and push the door closed again. The chain and the doorknob now marked in oily black fingerprints. Booker slid in and relocked everything while Joe wandered back to his bed. 

“Did you get any sleep?” Joe shook his head and picked up his journal and the remains of his necklace. The next page remained blank. He’d never had trouble drawing before. He just can’t close his eyes without seeing Nicky, Nico, Nicolo, my heart. All of the expressions he’d committed to memory, the life that always burned alongside Joe, only now he couldn’t help but remember all his expressions of pain and fear. Things he never wanted to remember were haunting him more and more. “Didn’t think you would, so I made a stop.” He held up a bottle for Joe to see. 

“Does it help?” Booker gave him a pained smile. 

“No, but misery loves company.” Joe felt himself smile involuntarily. 

“Grab some of those cups then.” He nodded at the small coffee pot with paper cups stacked next to it. The bottle opens with a pop behind him as he climbs onto the bed and presses his back against the headboard. Booker mirrors him on the second bed and passes over a waxy cup. 

They drain a third of the bottle in silence while Booker flips through channels on the small TV. “Joe,” he began carefully while another commercial break started. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Before you left you told me I was on my third chance.”

“I thought the point of drinking was to forget.” He let his head drop back and watched the shadows scatter across the ceiling. Joe can feel the silence of a forest nearly two hundred years ago. The air frozen in his lungs and that word hanging in between the three of them while the scars left on Nicky’s heart reopened for the first time in centuries. He clenches the broken chain of the necklace, still stained in places with Nicky’s blood, and realizes what Booker is asking. “You don’t remember.”

“No, that’s why I-” Booker sighed. "Sorry I brought it up. Let’s just get drunk. I think there might be a game on anyway.” He snatches up the remote again and starts changing channels. Joe avoids looking at him even when he holds out his cup for a refill. 

Joe wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to hate Booker for being here and for not being Nicky because Nicky would know what to say and how to make this right, but Nicky is gone and Joe can’t breathe anymore. Booker’s eyes never leave the screen, but all his attention is on Joe, waiting for him to snap. Refusing to give him the satisfaction, he slides off the bed and goes into the small bathroom without a word. 

The white walls are over bright, so he climbs into the tub and pulls his knees up to his chest. He relaxes his fist and looks at the angry lines in his palm left by the pendant. The journal is still in his other hand. It was a dark leather one that Nicky had bought for him in Venice last year. Every time he filled one, Nicky usually had a new one ready for him. 

Opening the cover, he ran his fingers over Nicky’s graceful Arabic on the front page. For Yusef, in case you ever forget how it happened. Underneath a feeble stick figure of a knight standing victorious over another dead stick figure. Complete with exed out eyes and small blood droplets falling from the sword in the knight’s hands. The childlike drawing blurs and the fingers holding the book begin to feel weak. 

Joe had teased him once about never starting a journal for himself. Nicky had scoffed and told him that’s why he had Joe, but if it really bothered him they could share one. They’d spent an afternoon laughing while Joe tried for the hundredth time to teach Nicky how to draw. It never worked, but after that day Nicky would add a small piece of his work at the beginning of each of Joe’s new journals. 

Knowing that nearly half his drawings were of Nicky was too much. He closed the journal and held it to his chest and waited for the pain to ease. Waited for the tears to dry for tonight. His fingers had left smudges on the cover and he anxiously rubbed at it. With a deep breath he closed his eyes again. 

There was muffled talking in the other room. Booker must be on the phone asking Andy or Nile what to do. There’s a deep sense of shame in his gut now that swallows up his hurt for the moment. Booker had hurt them before, but they never told him. Never tried to make him understand and in the end that’s what happened. He never really understood. 

Nicky hadn’t wanted to tell him the truth then, but Joe knows he’d forgive him for explaining now, centuries later. He pressed his forehead into the journal and forced himself to breathe deeply until he felt like he could answer Booker’s question without immediately drawing his sword. 

“Gotta go,” Booker hissed into the phone when Joe flipped the lock. He dropped back onto his bed and reached for the bottle. After refilling his cup he offered the bottle to Booker. “Thanks.”

“Mmm.” They watch the game in silence while Joe works up the will to answer Booker’s question. “Maybe a year after you joined us we were laying low in Austria. I can’t remember where, but we were in a cabin. Do you remember?”

Booker frowned at the TV and took another slow drink. “I remember you two got the cabin. I got to spend a week in the snow hunting with Andy while she went on rants about culture and Christianity.” Joe nodded and tried to decide how to continue when Booker looked over at him, his cheeks red with more than alcohol. “I think that was the first time I walked in on the two of you.”

“It was.” Joe doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol, but it’s easier to continue. “She used to tell us those stories too. About all the places she’d been. People like the Thebans.” He can still see Nicolo’s face illuminated by a fire enraptured with Andy’s stories about one of the most elite fighting forces in the ancient world being made up of lovers. Joe had tried to tell Nicky there was no shame in who he was, but his doubt lingered for a long time. Hearing Andy and Quynh’s stories had helped him. Encouraged both of them to know how things change. 

“It wasn’t unheard of on cold nights in the army. Two men just blowing off steam. You just never wanted to be the passive one.” He stops, hearing himself. “Anyway. Nothing prepared me for you two. It wasn’t a matter of convenience and it was deeper than anything I’d ever seen. Have ever seen.” He took a heavy drink and refilled their cups. 

“Do you remember why Andy pulled you out for that hunt?”

“Because someone needed to beat some sense into me and you looked like you were going to skin me alive?”

“I wanted to.” Joe smiled briefly before the weight settled again. “Andy knew for you to work with us she needed to push you along, but she knew we needed to be alone. You didn’t know Nicky well enough at that point to see how much what you said cost him.”

Sodomites.

Booker had said it reflexively and it was nothing they hadn’t heard before. It hadn’t bothered them in a long time, but it had never come from a family member. Nicky had trembled where their skin touched, but he didn’t give anything else away until the cabin door had slammed shut behind a furious Andy and mortified Booker. Joe had watched him slump down and start taking in gasps of air and choking out sobs on the way back. Apologizing to Joe and God in a loop. 

They’d sat on the floor for hours. Joe had rocked him and whispered out old reassurances and oaths that he hadn’t spoken in a long time. They’d spent the first week desperately remapping each other's bodies. Trying to reassure themselves that they were together. As they were meant to be.

After, they’d agreed it wasn’t Booker’s fault. Nicky had wanted to let it go and Joe had wanted to beat some sense into the new blood first, but they’d privately decided to give him a second chance. Booker had still been grieving his wife and children, so they didn’t think he needed to hear them complain about anything when they still had each other in the end. 

“Wait, that was my second chance?” He shook his head a little. “I don’t understand.”

“I knew that if we got separated, you’d be watching his back. Hearing you say that so casually... Another dismal in the thousands we’ve heard people make of us.” He took a deep breath and looked straight at Booker. He was watching Joe closely with a frown creasing his forehead. “Sodomy and heresy were the charges brought against Nicky during the Inquisition. The fact that he was letting a Muslim fuck him made everything so much worse. I was killed on the spot, but they wanted to set an example with Nicky. I tried to get there, I-” He feels the heavy weight in his chest and tears starting. “Nicky was alone when they carried out his sentence. You’ve never been burned at the stake, Book, and I hope you never have to feel that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this? Any of this?” Booker’s eyes widen and Joe knows he’s already picking up new patterns as he thinks back on his time with Joe and Nicky. How Nicky sometimes reacted to the stench of people burning. The nightmares that usually followed. 

“We might not have felt your pain, Book, but you know nothing of ours. You still don’t really know. Maybe we should’ve shared more of our lives with you, but we didn’t think it would help to remind you what the world saw us as. It seemed like it would be better to let you see us happy and healthy without a weight of pity pushing you along.” He takes the bottle from Booker’s loose gip and pours out the remainder between their cups. “Besides. It’s hard to complain around you and Andy drinking yourselves to death over your own bullshit.”

Booker choked out a laugh. “Well, I’d be happy to add some of your bullshit to the reasons I drink, Joe.”

“Fair enough.”

“It goes both ways. I should’ve talked to you. Both of you.” He says to the wallpaper after thinking things over. “You were just so… happy. I told myself I just didn’t want to ruin that for you, but I didn’t think you’d understand if I tried.”

“I’m sorry. At first I thought you were still holding onto those old beliefs, but Nicky…” he trails off and continues more quietly. “Booker, you’re holding onto this idea that just because we have each other that things are easy. You think that finding a partner would make your pain go away, but it doesn’t. I know you’ve seen when he gets distant for a time. And maybe we could’ve hidden our happiness from you more, but the only place we could be open, where we didn’t have to hide, was with our family. Even after Austria when we tried to be discrete for a while we still felt safe. Nicky and I have tried, Andy has tried, to make you feel safe, but you need to talk to us. You need to talk to someone.”

“We’re talking right now.” He smiles affectionately over at Booker and grabs some of the fries off the tray between them. Two of them hit Booker in the side of the head and one of them sails past him and hits the thick curtains. The rest make it to Joe’s mouth. 

“Asshole.” He ate the fries Joe had thrown. “By the way your ‘discrete’ period only lasted a week. How the two of you still fuck as much as you do after a thousand years is truly a wonder.”

“You know,” Joe grinned mischievously and waved the nearly empty bottle at him. “Nicky and I didn’t actually fuck for the first 75 years or so.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true,” he smiled remembering how innocent Nicky used to be. And that first time he’d let Joe open him up and… “We did everything except for penetrative sex for a long time. Even though Nicky wanted it maybe a week after we started traveling together.”

“I don’t know if I need the visuals, Joe.” Booker gently took the bottle from him and set it out of sight. 

“He was so beautiful, Book. So fucking perfect, but those assholes brainwashed him and made him believe- How he could ever believe he was anything less than perfect- Too kind. And patient. I never understood how he could suffer so much and still be so kind. How he could expect no kindness in return yet keep giving everything he was to helping.” 

“Nicky is a mystery all his own.” Booker sat up and started pulling Joe’s boots off. “How about you shut your eyes for a bit? We can start fresh in the morning.”

“Booker?” He swallowed in quick succession to keep some of the emotion down. “I can’t do this alone. Not without-” 

“We’ll find him, Joe. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’ll be there.” He tucked him in and switched off the tv. Joe curled up under the blankets and pulled all the extra pillows against his chest. Even buzzed he couldn’t fool himself into thinking it was Nicky. That the bed wasn’t lacking all warmth and that the reassuring sound of Booker’s breathing wasn’t Nicky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a week off! The holidays got more busy than expected, but I'm back on for weekly updates. 
> 
> This chapter does feature descriptions of gore and the aftermath of torture.

Autumn is nearly over when they start finding pieces of Nicky. 

It starts with small things. A few drops of blood here or there as it becomes less precious, butchers Joe won’t dignify by calling scientists having collected all they need, allowing the excess to spill until the droplets turn to puddles and rivers that would kill any of them if not given space to heal. The types of samples they leave behind goes from blood and marrow to organs that are left like meat for flies so they can greedily watch new ones grow.

The illusion of scientific advancement gives way to curious children poking at something they don’t understand. Joe knows how good Nicky’s self control is, but even he has a limit. When they find an arm Joe instantly knows belongs to Nicky it’s accompanied by the bodies of four men and hundreds of empty shells. 

Andy kneels by the men and starts poking at them. “These aren’t too old. Looks like a few broken necks and a scalpel.” Joe can hear the pride in her voice as she inspects the killing injuries. 

He squats down next to Booker in front of Nicky’s arm. The cut is jagged and the bone wasn’t cut very deep when they snapped it, so the fragments are nearly shattered. It paints a clear picture except for the burns in the skin. There is the familiar smell, but there’s something chemical Joe can’t place. 

“What is it?”

Booker frowns and shakes his head. “Looks more like an acid, doesn’t it?”

“Guys, are any of you good with chemistry? Or medical stuff?” Nile is bent over a small pile of broken vials using the muzzle of her rifle to turn over the labels. 

“Not particularly.” Joe joins her and starts looking through them without much hope. Nicky was the only one with medical training or a scientific background. A few of them are vaguely familiar, but most are names he doesn’t recognize. He sighs and runs a hand over the back of his neck, bumping the hilt of his sword in the process. 

“I’ll take some pictures. Might think of something later.” She pats his shoulder and pulls out a phone. He doesn’t see the point, but leaves her to it. 

Booker is still frowning at Nicky’s arm, but Andy is busy searching the bodies for IDs. When she doesn’t find anything she swears and kicks one of them in the ribs. Booker finally looks up and shakes his head. “Don’t mess up their faces, boss. Copley might be able to ID them.”

Joe looks around the damp barn and feels the adrenaline starting to leave him. He knew Nicky wasn’t here before they got eyes on it, just like he felt it at every location the last few months. This time felt different. Nicky had felt closer that he had in months. The fresh bodies and the blood that hasn’t completely dried confirms they were only off by a few hours.

He sighs and leaves the others to gather what they can, only pausing long enough to collect the arm. The flesh is cold and stiff between his fingers when he sets it next to him at the edge of the grass. The soil goes easily against his fingers, still damp from a recent rain, as he digs a shallow hole. He knows Nicky doesn’t live in flesh that’s so easily replaced, but he feels wrong leaving it to rot among the bodies. It also gives him something to do. Extending the distraction with a small goal. He jumps when another pair of hands joins him. 

“Book is getting fingerprints. We can move out in a bit.” Joe nods, too distracted to say anything. The damp has started to soak into his knees and their hands are filthy by the time they’re done. “We’re getting closer.”

Joe hesitates before finally sharing some of his fears. “I don’t know how he’ll be when I finally get him back. How long will it take for him to-” his voice breaks and he pauses to take a few shuddering breaths. Andy silently smooths out the soil, leaving him space to collect himself. “We’re supposed to protect each other. Everything they’re doing to him feels like it’s my fault. I’m failing him more everyday.”

“I know,” she admits softly. “The two of you have come a long way, Joe. I’ve seen the shit the world has thrown at you. I know what you’ve withstood and I know all the people who’ve tried to hurt either of you are long gone. And through all of that, Nicky is still the kindest, most resilient person I’ve ever known. Did you hear what he said to Quynh when she asked what he’d do in her position?” Andy puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “He didn’t even pause when he said he’d forgive you. He’ll be just fine. Maybe not right away, but eventually. He has you and he has his family.”

“It still feels like-”

“It isn’t your fault.” She says firmly. “I will remind you of that every fucking day if I have to, Joe. Same as Nicky did for me after I lost her. Got it?”

“Andy,” he clears his throat and avoids her eyes. “What do you want to do about her?”

Andy frowns and looks down at the freshly turned earth. “She has every reason to hate me for giving up. I deserve that, but this…” She lets him go and presses the earth down, her fingers pale against the soil. “She’s going too far.”

It’s not an answer, but Joe doesn’t press her. 

That night Joe manages a few hours of sleep before waking with the phantom stench of burning flesh and Nicky’s screams. The sheets twisted around his limbs are damp with sweat, but he doesn’t immediately get up. Nile is snoring nearby and Andy has gone out on a walk leaving Joe and from the sound of keys tapping away, Booker. 

With a groan he rolls over and pulls a pillow tight to his chest. The tremor in his arms lessen even if the weight in his chest grows more heavy. 

“Joe?” Booker doesn’t pause in his typing, but in the open loft he can clearly see Joe is up even if he hadn’t heard the nightmare. At this point, the others have become used to them. 

He hums in acknowledgment and kicks off the blankets. The shadows under his eyes no longer heal completely and he’s definitely lost weight and color, but his immortality and his need have kept him going so far. He ignores the leftovers and goes straight for the empty chair next to Booker. 

“Anything?” He asks reflexively, idly playing with the charm on his necklace. . 

“Actually, I might.” He taps on the tablet next to him until it lights up to one of the pictures Nile took. 

Joe stares down at the metal tank covered in warning labels in bright colors.

“Sulfuric acid?” He doesn't bother trying to read the warnings on the labels, instead he looks up at Booker who was already focused on his laptop again. “That’s not too uncommon in a lab is it?”

“Right, but look at the concentration.” Joe zoomed in while Booker paused. “A typical lab keeps around 6 Moles which would burn, but more like a rash. To do what we saw on Nicky’s arm the concentration would need to be much higher. See this?” he tapped the screen again. “What we have here is a tank of at least a 100 Moles. That is not easy to come by and it’s heavily controlled.”

“So you can track it?” He can feel the small glimmer of hope growing again, but he tries to keep it contained. There’s a loud scraping sound when he slides closer to Booker that somehow doesn’t wake Nile. He looks at the list of names Booker was trying to narrow down.

“I think so. The label is dated and has a code on it, so I know the company. I just need to track where they’ve been selling.” He muffles a yawn and sits back. “I already talked to Copley. He’s looking into some of the buyers. Might take a few hours before he calls back.”

Joe nods and starts a fresh pot of coffee for both of them. 

After an hour of fidgeting he starts checking the edges of their swords for nicks or rough edges. He’s almost finished cleaning Nicky’s when the phone vibrates next to his elbow. Booker jumps and knocks it to the floor with a curse. He almost falls out of the chair as he scrambles to reach it under the table.

Joe takes it from him and drops it back on the table, swiping to answer and taking a few tries to hit the speaker button. "Did you find him?" 

"Yes. They're moving right now, but I know where to.” Booker closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The room blurs around Joe and for the first time in weeks, he starts to smile. “Is everyone there?" 

At that moment the front door cracks open and Andy walks in. She doesn't look surprised to see them awake, but she instantly picks up on the mood. "Andy just walked in." Joe jumps to his feet and sheaths Nicky’s sword with shaking hands.

"Great. That's-" 

“You’re sure?”

“My contact just sent me confirmation from one of the mercenaries still on the ship. The intel is good, Joe.” 

“Okay.” It doesn’t feel real and he doesn’t fully trust the news, but it’s easy to fall back into familiar habits. He’s so busy mentally running through the list of things they’ll need he doesn’t hear Copley still talking.

Booker grabs his wrist when he starts to leave the table and pulls him back. "-a few hours to run their faces and the prints, but three of them turned up in the system. Apparently, Quynh contracted them out, but most of them split off. It sounds like they weren't comfortable with what was happening. Only a couple guys stuck around after Quynh left."

"She isn't with them?"

"No. My contact says she left after a few months, but she kept a few mercenaries with her." There's a heavy silence. "I have a temporary location.” 

“How temporary?”

"I don’t know. She could be there for a few hours or a few days. My guy owed me, but as far as he's concerned we're even. I might not be able to track her again." He says apologetically. 

"Same goes for Nicky?" Andy’s voice is flat and she’s staring distantly at the opaque windows obscuring the buildings next to them.

"Essentially, yes."

"We can vote, but I'm going with Joe." Booker doesn't hesitate and Joe isn't surprised, but it still fills him with warmth. 

Andy snaps back to attention and glares at Booker. “We go for Nicky. All of us,” she says through gritted teeth. 

Copley is already typing something on the other end of the phone. "A plane will be waiting for you. From there I'll get you to a boat." Joe feels his heart starting to race in anticipation. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“I’ll get the kid.” Booker clears his throat and nods at Joe. The laptop closes with a snap and he goes to Nile, grabbing his pack along the way and stuffing in the few items he’d taken out. 

Joe feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin, but he forces himself to pause. “He’d understand if you went to her first.”

“I know. I need to see Nicky before I decide what to do with her.” She says it with a sad resolve and walks away to collect her things. “Come on.”

***

Joe began life as a merchant, sailing under an infinite variety of skies. He loved watching the water change with the sun, but he always felt nervous when the last rays of light disappeared. The silence and the vastness of the open water at night got easier to block out with Nicky at his side. Sometimes when he looked out over the black water he still got the creeping feeling they were being watched. That something was waiting just out of sight.

He wonders if the man bleeding out at his feet had felt his death coming. The blood is easily wiped from his sword while the rest starts funneling to the side of the ship and disappearing back into the water. The others silently start joining him on the deck. 

Booker is the last to pull himself over the side of the ship. Nile and Andy quickly split off to clear the deck for a chopper. Joe and Booker wordless move toward the lower levels. It’s rare for Joe to take point. That job normally goes to Nicky and Andy who, even if she was still immortal, wouldn’t dream of suggesting Joe take a backseat right now. Booker follows close behind trying to cover Joe as the gunfire starts. A few shots manage to hit him, but they aren’t enough to slow him down. He focuses on Copley’s directions and tries not to get distracted picturing the exasperated look Nicky gives him when he’s being too reckless. Just another thing he will spend the next decade apologizing to Nicky for.

“Alright, according to the schematics you should be at a fork. Stick to the right and take the stairs down two floors. The lab should be there.” Copley chimes in over their ear pieces. “Ladies, have you cleared the top deck for landing?” 

“Almost!” Nile shouts over the coms. “Just need to do a sweep, but I think we’ve got most of them.” 

“How are things downstairs?” Andy’s voice comes through, calm as ever, but Joe hears the question. Have you found him? 

“We’re almost to the lab, but we haven’t seen much resistance on the bottom floors.” Booker answers as he watches Joe’s shotgun decapitate a soldier as they clear the last corner. 

Joe curses under his breath when he fires the last round in the shotgun. A scientist comes barreling out of a room at the end of the hall, but on seeing Joe pulling his sidearm, she panics and runs back into the room, barely avoiding the bullets Booker sends her way. Before he can fire again two heavily armed men start shooting from the same room and they have to duck into a narrow doorway before returning fire. 

Booker takes one of them out with a clean headshot. The second manages to take cover, narrowly avoiding the same fate. Joe doesn't wait for another opening. His sword is in his hand and he’s charging before the man can gather his courage. There’s a flash of steel, the satisfying resistance traveling up his arm, and the thud of a body dropping. The helmet stays firmly strapped to the head as it bounces into the room in front of Joe, rolling towards a still body on a table. The scientist is pressed into a corner, terrified eyes watching the head, before looking up at Joe with a plea already on her lips. A bullet flies past him, eating through her eye and exploding out the back of her head before she can speak. Joe sprints to the metal table before the echoes from the gunfire have completely stopped.

He knew it was Nicky the second he stepped into the room, but he knows Nile, or even Booker, might not be able to recognize what’s left of him on the table. Until now the worst death for either of them was Nicky’s execution by the Inquisition. Joe had followed the smoke on the horizon for what felt like days before he made it, long after the crowds had cleared out. It was the greatest test either of them had faced and for a terrifying few hours he wondered if Nicky had found their limit. For the first time, he was confronted with the possibility of being left behind. 

“Nicolo-” Joe drops his gun and scrambles to his side. There’s a heavy mask covering his face with tubes connecting it to a machine that’s still humming away. He removes it with shaking hands and throws it toward the dead science where it continues to weakly pump poison through the line. It would’ve been enough to kill any of them. Except, Nicky’s whole chest cavity was open and empty of anything except for a few blackened remains of vital organs. His spine and the remaining halves of his ribs were revealed in small glimpses of white in a sea of blackened meat. The gas was still leaking from holes in his throat and drifting out where his lungs should be. One leg was missing from his upper thigh and his arms looked skeletal where they were bound to the table. 

Booker leaves his post by the door and joins him. The moment he gets a closer look his face loses all color. “Those goddamn, mother-” he cuts himself off and starts helping open restraints. “Copley, we’re ready for evac.”

Joe reverently closes Nicky’s dull eyes and carefully lifts him. “I’ve got you.” The skin of his forehead is cold against his lips. Lifeless for now, but undeniably here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone that's been commenting and leaving kudos. 
> 
> Next chapter focuses heavily on Nicky's recovery, so be ready!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between updates!

The plane’s engines are already humming when they pile out of the helicopter. Andy stays close to his side, eyes moving quickly, trying to stay focused on what might be around them. Joe grimaces at Nicky’s drying blood that soaked the side of his pants during the short ride. There’s still a steady drip trailing behind them from the missing limb, but it's definitely slowed down, either there’s no blood left or the healing is starting. 

Copley stands, uncertain, at the top of the stairs illuminated by the light coming from inside the jet. “Tell the pilot we’re ready.” Andy’s firm voice is closer than Joe had been expecting. He flinches and follows Copley onto the plane. At first he doesn't notice the small movement in Nicky's arm trapped against his chest. Assuming the slight shift is just from him jumping at Andy's voice and the way he has to adjust his hold when he turns sideways to fit through the narrow entryway. 

The second time Nicky’s sharp spine twitches against his bicep everything else disappears. “Nicolo, I’m here. I’m-” he drops to his knees and cradles him in his lap, in the narrow entrance to the plane, pressing his freed hand to his cold cheek.

Pale green eyes latch onto Joe’s, but he can’t make a sound. His heart returned before his lungs, so he can’t do more than stare at Joe for a few moments before his eyes fill with blood and his lips turn blue before he dies once more. Joe keeps brushing his face and murmuring to him. “It’s okay, dear heart. It’s okay. Let go. Let go and I’ll be here when you wake. Peace, my love.” His tears of pained relief fall onto Nicky’s face. 

Andy and Copley work around him to seal the plane without forcing him to move from where he’s kneeling with Nicky’s body. Joe keeps them there through the whole take off, refusing to move in case Nicky wakes again. He closes Nicky’s eyes, kisses his temples, and finally carries him to a seat when the pilot reaches altitude. 

Nile had found more blankets and laid back one of the seats into a flat position. The emergency blanket she’d passed Joe in the dark confines of the helicopter is already stiff with drying blood. It peels away from Nicky’s body, leaving flakes in some places, and reveals the true extent of the damage in the bright lights of the cabin. 

Andy murmurs something in ancient Summerian. Joe doesn’t need to look to know the fury building in her eyes. Nile, or maybe Copley, might’ve gasped. Joe didn’t turn to check. From his peripheral he can see Booker taking a generous sip from a flask he’d hidden in one of his pockets.

The necrosis was slowly being pushed back. The vague shadow of organs, ripening like fruit on a vine, starting with his heart and spreading. The tissue in his chest slowly returning to pinks and reds. Bones and sinew returning to their natural color. 

"Bastards," Copley breathed in shock. 

“What’s our next play?” Nile tries to inject some confidence in her voice, but she still sounds like she might be sick. 

“We’re going to lay low for a while. Let Nicky heal.” Booker says steadily.

Copley clears his throat. “I’m taking you to a safehouse. Once I’ve confirmed it’s clear, Joe, you can move him somewhere more comfortable. Maybe 24 hours.”

“Booker and Nile will go with Joe and Nicky.” Andy steps forward and snatches Booker’s flask from his hands. “As soon as you’re secure I’m going after her.”

“I’ll back up, Andy.” Nile cut across Andy before she could interrupt. “That’s nonnegotiable.” Joe blocks all of them out. Completely ignores them until they take the hint and move their conversation toward the front of the plane. 

"We've got a few hours before we land. Might want to get comfortable." Booker produced a second, backup flask from his jacket and indicated the empty chair next to Nicky. Joe hummed distractedly, shaking his head at the offered flask. He is busy alternating between watching for progress on the gaping wounds and drinking in Nicky’s face. 

It’s thinner than he’s seen it in a long time, his hair longer. It reminds him of the knight before the walls of Jerusalem. Half starved, filthy and full of a pain Joe didn’t understand for another century. The sharp lines in his cheeks, the blue lips, layers of blood, are a haunting reminder of all they had endured. Nightmares and scars that he’d forgotten about were suddenly just below the surface while he tried to focus on the steady signs of Nicky healing. Reminding himself that he hadn’t lost him then and he wouldn’t lose him now. 

The new heart starts a feeble rhythm. New lungs struggle to fill, only to collapse in the open air, ribs still trying to reform into their protective cradle. Joe sits up again so he can hold Nicky’s face. Their eyes meet again. Nicky holds on a little longer this time. His eyes find Joe’s and he manages to make a few noises. It’s mostly gurgling, his throat still full of fluid. Joe holds him through it until he dies again. When he presses his lips to Nicky’s face he can feel the lingering warmth.

The plane takes them to another deserted tarmac. Only now the sky is starting to betray the first hints of a new day. Joe didn’t ask or care where they were going. He simply lifted Nicky back into his arms when it was time to move him to the car. It was a slow process, climbing into the back without doing Nicky more harm, but when they were finally settled he looked up and realized Copley was there holding the car door for him. 

Booker, and now Andy, usually spent more time with Copley than Joe or Nicky ever did. Since he’d been the one to capture and bring them into the lab, they hadn’t gotten off to a great start. Working together they’d settled into a comfortable partnership that was perfect at keeping distance. He wanted to thank him, but knowing everything Copley had done to help him find Nicky, he felt like he needed to apologize for not being more welcoming. Copley looked at Nicky in his arms and smiled like that was all he needed to see. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe to move him.”

“Copley,” Joe swallowed and held his eyes for a moment. 

His smile gets warmer in understanding. “Take care of him.” Joe feels himself smile back, exhaustion weighing heavy in his bones. Then, Andy is pulling Copley out of the way and climbing into the seat next to Joe, gently gathering Nicky’s foot and letting it rest in her lap. 

Booker and Nile keep quiet the whole drive. Book, focused on driving, and Nile focused on not looking over her shoulder. Joe keeps up a steady stream of words. Memories of their time and endless words of love in their favorite languages. There’s the occasional snap of a rib growing another inch. By the time they reach the safehouse the holes in his neck are gone and his ribs have mostly regrown over the new organs. The leg alone remains unchanged where it rests on Andy’s thigh. 

This time Booker jogs ahead, pulling back the covers on the largest bed in the room. It’s a little harder laying Nicky down this time. He’s noticeably heavier with the returning organs and bones, but his weight is still off balance without his leg. Joe feels some of the doom lifting from his chest at seeing his heart settled in a bed they don’t immediately have to leave. 

“Joe, I swear to you…” Andy’s voice is thick in the small room.

“I know, boss.” He looks down at Nicky’s still face. “Just stay until he wakes up.”

Andy nods and turns away, wiping at her eyes. Nile is openly crying against Booker’s side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. 

The three of them wait until Joe carefully moves Nicky to the center of the bed. He pulls off his gear, the heavy vest and bloody pants, until he’s down to boxers then settles on his side next to Nicky, their naked skin finally touching. The moment there’s room Booker sits on Nicky’s other side with his legs stretched out. Nile cautiously climbs in next to him and settles with her head on his shoulder. Andy refuses to sit. She stands over them clutching her axe so tightly Joe thinks the handle might crack.

This time when Nicky wakes he screams and screams until his vocal cords start to give out again. Booker takes one of his hands that’s scrambling against his chest and holds him tight. Joe holds him down and talks the whole while. Nicky doesn’t die this time, but he does pass out as his immortality strains itself. The bones on his chest and the layers of flesh and tissue finally close over again leaving soft pink skin. His breathing is still labored and his heart hasn’t slowed down, but his lungs are no longer collapsing around each breath. 

Joe is shaking, but he keeps talking in fits and starts as his voice cracks. Booker keeps a tight hold on Nicky’s hand. 

There’s a shorter gap this time. It only takes a few minutes for Nicky’s eyes to open again. “Where…” He moves like he wants to sit up, but only manages to turn his head toward Joe.

“I’m here, beloved. I’m here.” Joe runs a gentle hand on his cheek. “You’re safe.”

“It hurts…” Fresh sweat shines along his forehead and he arches his back with a gasp before Joe hears a loud pop of something shifting in his spine. 

His eyes fill with tears and his words begin to sound pleading. “I know, dear one. It’s almost over. Then we can sleep.” 

Nicky looked like he wanted to argue, but there was another pop, this time in his leg. His eyes snap shut again and he grabs onto whatever is within reach. Joe quickly laces their fingers together and presses them securely around the fresh skin of his ribs. His other hand twists in the sheets until Booker takes it back into his own. Booker’s determined eyes meet Joe’s and he smiles slightly. 

Nicky gasps and starts to sit upright before collapsing with a whimper. There’s the familiar snap followed by choked sobs. He’s slowly becoming more coherent if only of Joe, but he’s still only speaking in Genoese and Arabic.

Joe looks behind him when the bed shifts. Andy is there, settling in against his back, with one arm slung around him to rest on Nicky’s ribs. Nile curls tighter into Booker’s side and reaches out to rest a hand on Nicky’s bicep. 

“Yusef?” Nicky sounds exhausted, but his voice is more clear, full of relief.

He smiles and brushes the damp hair from his forehead. “Hey, franj. Miss me?” Nicky huffs a pained laugh and tries to move deeper into Joe’s arms, but freezes. Finally taking stock of his body. 

“Easy, priest.” Andy is peering over Joe’s shoulder, rubbing a hand on Nicky’s stomach. “You’re still short a leg.”

Nicky frowns and looks up at Andy’s exhausted face. He finally notices his hand still held tight by Booker and then Nile, still holding onto his arm. “Sebastian?”

“Hey, Nico.”

“Are you-”. Nicky gasps and shuts his eyes. His grip on Joe grows painful for a moment as he breathes through whatever is happening inside his chest. “I didn’t know if they took you too.” He finally grits out. 

“Nah, someone had to babysit Joe while you were gone.” Booker goes for casual, but Joe can hear the nerves creeping through. 

“I’m sure you did your best. He’s not the-” There was an awful crack broken by a fresh groan from Nicky. His good leg kicked out and he turned his face into Joe’s chest, muffling another scream against his skin. 

“Easy,” his voice cracked, but Nicky didn’t notice. Joe keeps glancing down as the bone starts to slowly regrow in jagged splinters and cracks. The muscle eventually starts to follow with the skin moving down last.

Nicky keeps passing out in the short pauses where the growing stops, but he always wakes again when the bones start shifting. Joe never stops talking. 

The next few hours all he manages are a few sobs and moans between gasps of Joe’s name. Yusuf, Yusuf, Yusuh, repeats like a hymn. 

And Joe responds each time. I’m here. 

“Almost done.” Booker finally says while Joe rocks Nicky. “Couple of toes.”

“You hear that, love? You’re almost done.” Nicky nods in understanding, but that seems to sap his energy. It’s just the three of them now. Nicky hadn’t let go of Booker until his knee finished. By then, Andy and Nile had gotten up to start figuring out food in the other room and he hadn’t shown any sign of leaving. “Nearly there and we can take a shower and have some broth Andy made for you. Then I promise you can sleep as long as you want.”

Nicky groaned at the mention of food and a shower. “You’ll have to do most of the work.”

“I accept this burden.” Joe grinned and kissed his hair. Booker rolled his eyes and took another look at Nicky’s foot. 

“Looks like you’re good to go, Nico.” He stood up and stretched his back with a pop. “I’ll go get the shower warmed up and see where the food is.”

“Thanks, Book. We’ll be right in.” Joe smiled up at him. 

“You two figure things out?” Nicky’s breath is hot against Joe’s neck where he’s settled himself.

“Yeah, we, uh, had a few long talks while you were… Nicky?”

“Joe?” Nicky was so still that Joe wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He brushed a few matted hairs behind his ear. The hair was flaking with old blood and greasy with sweat, but it was long and Joe was eager to wash it for him. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Nicky struggled to put weight on his new leg. He shook, coltish, until Joe lifted him back into his arms and carried him bridal style into the bathroom. The water going down the drain ran pink and grey while Nicky buried his face into his shoulder. His thin arms wrapped tight around Joe’s waist the only thing keeping him upright. 

They lingered a few minutes after the last of the soap ran clean. Joe was running his hand over his sharp shoulders and spine. Lost in thought. “Nicky, I’m-”

“Joe?” Nicky squinted up at him not waiting to hear his apologies. “I never doubted you’d find me.”

Joe buried his face in Nicky’s neck and held him tight. “I couldn’t stop thinking of her. What she might do or if she hid you from me.”

“It doesn’t matter right now. We’re here.” Nicky yawned widely and let Joe support more of his weight. “But I’d really like to sleep now.”

Joe laughed and switched off the water. “I promise you will have all the sleep you want. First, a little food.” 

Joe didn’t bother dressing either of them. Just slung a towel around their hips to spare Nile, and supported Nicky back to the bed. Someone had changed the sheets for them. The fresh cotton was cool against his skin. Nicky still shivered from lingering pain or exhaustion, but he let Joe hold him steady when Andy brought in a bowl of broth for him. 

Then, finally, he pulled Nicky to his chest and they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> See you next week!


End file.
